A Third Second Chance
by winter machine
Summary: "But I can tell you that Mark Sloan doesn't have to 'try' to love me. He just does."  Post-finale one-shot present for a pal.  Addison gets a few things off her chest - and actually makes a change this time.


**A Third Second Chance**

_For xofab - the present I promised to help her recover from the Private Practice finale. This is a standalone piece, no relationship between it and anything else I'm writing. But I will say this: it felt damned good to write. Cathartic, even. Thanks, xofab! _

_The characters, and any familiar lines, belong to Shonda & ABC. I'm going to be honest that this is not a Sam-friendly story. If you don't like that, I think it's only fair to warn you. I was a Sam fan at one point, and "The Girl Who Collects Shells" (on my profile page - new chapter out very soon) reflects that. So if you don't want to see Sam get his ass handed to him (verbally!), you may not like this story._

_Or you can just give it a chance - and let me know what you thought of it (and what you thought of the finale). Happy reading!_

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><p>She takes a deep breath, steels herself, and opens his gate. This is it.<p>

This is who she really is.

This is what she really wants.

And she can't wait - not anymore.

"Sam, we need to talk."

He gives her what he probably thinks is a benevolent smile. "I'm pretty sure I know what this is about. Come and sit down."

"I'll stand, thanks, and - I'm not so sure you do."

"Give me a little credit, Addison," he says gently.

"Actually, Sam, I think I've extended you all the credit I can. Think of me as Fannie Mae in 2008. Your credit is done."

He crinkles his brow. "I'm not following. This isn't about that mysterious call this afternoon? I assumed it was the adoption agency."

"Not quite."

"So it wasn't about a...baby?"

God, how she hates the way he says that word, laced with resentment.

"I didn't say that."

"Addison, what's going on?"

"Sam, you told me a month ago you'd _try_ to love me."

He smiles at the memory. "Yeah. I know."

He looks almost proud of himself, and it takes everything she has not to shout it out with glee - but no, she's going to be an adult about this. Someone has to. "It's not enough, Sam."

"Addison, let's not do this."

"I'm already doing it, Sam. You can listen or not."

He sighs heavily. "Okay, then. Go ahead."

"Do you hear yourself, Sam? Do you hear how you sound? Resigned, annoyed, I don't even know what it is - is listening to me that hard for you? Does it seriously take that much out of you?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" His eyes are twinkling - like this is _fun_, like she's _amusing _him - and just for a second she lets the anger course through her body. Just for a second, but it's powerful. Her fingers flex unconsciously.

"Is this a joke to you, Sam? Listening to me? The things I say? Why are you with me if you don't want to hear me talk?"

"Of course I want to hear you talk," he says patiently. "This is...great, Addison. Keep going. Tell me all my flaws, if you're not done yet."

"Oh, I'm nowhere near done, Sam. I'm not even close."

"This is coming out of nowhere."

"If you believe that, then maybe you never knew me at all."

"Okay, Addison, look. It's late. Can you get to the point here?"

"Okay." She nods briskly. It's better that way, isn't it? "We've been friends for a while, Sam, so I'm doing you the courtesy of letting you know that Mark's coming to town."

"Mark is - wow." Sam shakes his head, grinning the mirthless mocking smile she's come to loathe. "You've already - I shouldn't be surprised. A leopard doesn't change its spots, right, Addison?"

She finds her lip curling, disgustedly, as she watches him. Did he always do that? Look so _happy _when he was hurting her?

"I haven't touched him, Sam. Not in more than a year, not since you and I have been..._together,_" she stresses the word icily. "But let's talk about leopards and their spots. Have you kissed Naomi lately? Or is that only a big draw when I'm out of town? Or, I don't know, when I'm grieving my mother's suicide?"

His eyes widen slightly. "Addison-"

"Did you think I didn't know about that? What, you thought because you said 'this conversation is over' that it was over? Guess what, Sam - this is one conversation you don't get to end. You don't get to tell me the conversation is over. You don't get to tell me nothing happened, or that we're moving backwards. It's my conversation this time."

He shakes his head, giving that mirthless laugh again that makes her hand itch to slap him. She controls herself though. Someone has to. "It's always been your show, hasn't it, Addison."

"No. It should be, because it's my life, but no. It hasn't been. I've been on your timetable, Sam. But not anymore."

"Mark is so much better?"

"Yes. You know why? Because when he makes mistakes, he feels them. He pays for them. He acknowledges them. He _regrets _them. That's a good man, Sam. Calling yourself a good man, and not backing it up? That's meaningless."

"Fine, Addison. This is really how you want to end things?"

"Oh, so you realize I'm ending it this time?"

"Listen, I don't know why you're so angry-" she snorts at this, and he ignores her - "but for old times' sake, I'll cut Sloan a break, okay? I won't make a scene when he's here."

"You won't make a - you - what?" she splutters. "You think I'm trying to protect _him_ from _you_? I'm trying to protect _you_. God knows why, since you certainly haven't been looking out for me. No, you know what? You did look out for me once. You were a good friend once, Sam. So in that spirit, I'm warning you: Mark's coming, and I don't think he's too happy with you."

"What the hell reason does he have to be unhappy with me? He's the one who's taking my-" he breaks off.

"No, please, go on. Taking your what? Your woman? Your property? I'm not yours, Sam. I'm not a bone for anyone to fight over."

"I know that," he mutters. "But still."

"You want to know why he's unhappy? Something about how you're the reason why we're on our third second chance."

"Your third - what?"

"Apparently the last time he was here, a certain someone talked him out of taking a chance with me."

"I was trying to protect you!"

"Really, Sam? You were looking out for _me_? Or for yourself?"

"I wanted to be with you."

"Yeah, I'll get back to that one. But I seem to remember you asking - right before you gave me a hell of an aggressive kiss right here on this deck, by the way - why you can never get what _you_ want."

"So?" he doesn't meet her eyes.

"So nothing. So that's quite the protective streak, Sam. Nice work."

"This is just like you." He shakes his head. "Block out everything good I've done, and just concentrate on-"

"No, you're right. The good. Tell me, Sam, what _have_ you done for me lately?"

"What are you asking?"

"It's been a tough year for me, I'll admit it. My mother's surprise divorce and even more-of-a-surprise wedding. Her suicide. Losing Naomi. But please, Sam, tell me all the ways you've been here for me."

"I'm not doing this, Addison."

"Yeah, no kidding. You never want to do the hard stuff, do you?"

"This is unproductive."

"Hey, one more thing - remember when you said that you and Naomi and Maya made sacrifices for this relationship? 'It took a toll' that I can't even imagine, remember that?"

"I guess," he says sullenly.

"Well, I'll tell you what. Let's play a little game. I'll give you sixty seconds, and if you can name two things the three of you did or sacrifices you made that took this alleged toll, I'll back off and take all the responsibility for this trainwreck."

"That would be a first."

"Really, Sam? You want to pull the irresponsibility card? Is that even based on anything, or just a knee-jerk Blame Addison maneuver? Did you learn that from Nai?"

"This is ridiculous."

"Sixty seconds. Take it or leave it."

"It took a toll," he mutters.

"Specifics, please."

"It... we had to... Addison, this is ridiculous," he snaps finally. "Is this a game to you? A joke?"

"No," she says softly. "It's not a joke. It's serious. It's deadly serious."

"Can we please just table this discussion? You're tired. I'm tired. Let's just go to bed."

"Bed, great idea." She rolls her eyes. "Because that's not where our problems start. Sam, there's nothing wrong with you on the outside, okay? You're gorgeous. I'm not going to deny that. You, me, bed? Not a bad combination. Not at all. But the last time I gave in to that, it took me a month to come to my senses. A month! And I don't have unlimited months, Sam."

"Addison..."

"I wanted to make a change. I needed to make a change. So desperately. But I was sad and scared and lonely and there you were, Sam. And I ended up back in bed with you. Again. I'm not going there again. I'm not doing that again. See this?" She spreads her hands out, indicating herself, her stance - everything she can. "_This _is change."

"Why are you doing this, Addison? I ...I don't even recognize you."

"That's_ exactly _why I'm doing this."

"Excuse me?"

"You just said it. You don't recognize me. Well, that's just it, Sam, because this is me. In fact, I haven't felt this much like _me _in a long time. Funny how that's the me you can't recognize. Did you ever really know me, Sam? Did you even want to?"

He shakes his head. "You're being ridiculous."

"Oh sure, I know you wanted me. You made that pretty clear. But did you _know_ me?"

"Because Mark knows you so much better."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Sam, so I'm going to take that at face value. And yes, he does. He gets that I'm flawed. He gets that I care. He gets that I _need_ things. Look, I understand, okay? It's an old story. You wanted me in med school, and you couldn't have me. That's what you wanted - that fantasy twenty-five-year-old. You would've been happy with that. Or last year, when I wasn't ready to try - this - and you were? Nothing like a little off-limits Addison to turn you on, right? You would've been happy with that. But when you actually _got _me, Sam? Me, all of me, the actual me - you just couldn't back off fast enough."

"That's not fair."

"But it's true."

He cocks his head slightly.

"Yeah, you said the same thing to me. Good catch."

"So you're just running to Mark? That's your idea of a change?"

"I'm not _running_ anywhere. Damn it, Sam, the change isn't Mark. It isn't even ending it with you. The change is in _me. _It's not about Mark, or you, or any man. You don't define me. Don't you get it? Mark isn't going to change me. I was able to call him because _I _made a change. I'm the one who's changed! That's why I called him."

"Just a call," he snorts derisively. "I'm sure."

It was, in fact, just a call. And a brief one at that, but that was all it took. She can still hear his voice ringing in her ears, loud and outraged.

"He said _what_? He'll 'try' to love you? You've got to be kidding me. Addison," he said gruffly. "Don't you realize I've spent the last twenty years trying _not _to love you? And failing miserably at every turn? And that little - 'try' to love you, seriously? He's an idiot, Addie. Does he really not get what he could have had?"

He couldn't have had it, though. She told Mark that, on the phone. Then she listened to his voice catch a little as he said he was flying down there, the next morning, and don't try to talk him out of it. She didn't.

"Don't believe me," she says to Sam now. "Fine. I don't care. But you know what, Sam? He felt closer to me in one five-minute phone call than you have since before Susan got sick. Since I don't even know when."

His shoulders sag. "What happened to us?" he asks moodily.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. Don't even try that. I'll tell you what happened. You wanted a fantasy and woke up with a reality. Happens all the time, but somehow I thought we'd be different. I thought you were my friend, and I even thought you loved me. But as soon as you woke up with me, warts and all, you were done. You didn't touch me, Sam. Not for weeks after I got back from Connecticut. Did you even notice that?"

"You were-"

"Sick? Thought I was pregnant? Thought maybe I might be a little upset about that, might want a little closeness? Or were you too busy trying to make sure I wouldn't start whining about wanting babies again?"

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to say those words, Sam. You made it crystal clear. Guess what? Listening to your girlfriend talk isn't some painful gauntlet you have to run before you get rewarded with sex. In a relationship, a real relationship - you'd _want _to listen to me."

"I never said that either."

"No, but your pal Sheldon did, and you didn't try to correct him."

"How did-"

"I know things, Sam. I know more than you think. I know that when I have a child - not if, _when_ - I'll raise my son to value what women say and not just what their bodies can do. And I'll raise my daughter to value her own voice more than how a man can make her feel. I'll raise them both to treat their loved ones with respect and dignity and to know when it's time to make a change. To know when something's done - the way I know, now, that I'm done with this. I'm done with you. I'm done with the coldness, I'm done with the distance, and I'm done with 'trying.' You know, I've already done all that. For the longest six months of my life in a tin can in the freaking woods and you know what, Sam? Even that was better than this. Because you don't have a _single_ reason to treat me like this. Not one."

"I tried to be a good man for you, Addison."

"Grade school is over, Sam. 'A for effort' won't cut it anymore."

He spreads his hands, innocence all over his handsome face, and she's relieved that she feels nothing - except for relief.

"I don't understand what I did wrong," he protests.

"Seriously? Even after I laid it all our for you? Then I don't know what to tell you, Sam. Except that 'I'll try to love you' was not your finest moment."

"So you're going back to Mark."

"I'm not 'going back' to anything."

This, finally, seems to get through. Addison gives him a final, pitying smile and leans against the fence for just a moment before opening the gate. She's not cruel, exactly, but why not give him one last chance to look at what he's losing. Sure enough, his eyes skate over her, lingering on all the places he'll never touch again.

"Does this have to end badly?" he asks finally. "Can't you still consider me a friend?"

She smiles at him - just her mouth, not her eyes. "Tell you what - I'll try."

The gate snapping shut behind her is the most satisfying sound she's heard in a while.

She has just enough time to make it to therapy the next morning before Mark arrives. She's well rested, having slept the whole night spread out across her king-sized bed. There's a spring in her step. The psychologist raises his eyebrows as soon as she walks in.

"I made a change," she says simply.

He nods eagerly. Shrinks - they always want the gory details. She obliges, and notices the corner of the psychologist's mouth twitch a few times as she relays the details of the previous night's conversation - like he's trying not to smile.

"And it's not just finishing it with Sam," she explains. "Or finally leveling with him - although I'd be lying if I said that wasn't pretty satisfying. And it's not just calling Mark. It's not just - seeing him," and she can't help the little frisson of excitement that courses through her in anticipation. "It's me. I did this. I made a change. I'm taking charge."

"It sounds like you did make a change," he says. He pauses, and she can tell he's getting ready to run with what's normally her least favorite question. But this time, somehow, she doesn't even mind.

"And how do you feel about that?" he asks.

"I feel good - no, actually, I feel great," she says, honestly, because when something's true it's surprisingly easy to say.

She slings her purse over her shoulder, half her mind already on the lunch she's planned on the beach, warm sea breezes, scruffy cheeks and ... well, they'll just have to see. She doesn't know what's going to happen, but this time, it doesn't scare her. Not even a little. It's just them. Just Addison and the person who's always been only a phone call away.

She spares the psychologist a stunning smile as she heads for the door. "Feel free to write all that down," she tosses over her shoulder, and steps out into the sunshine.

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><p><em>I'm not gonna lie. That venting felt so good I almost needed a cigarette afterwards - and I don't even smoke. Love it? Hate it? Review and tell me. I love reviews - they're an important part of a complete breakfast. <em>


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